Caffeine for the Soul

November Echo

Matt slipped into the noise sanitized environment without a sound, coffee cup in hand. "You know, those work better if you aim them the other direction."

Logan spun around, caught red-handed. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. The binoculars on his desk were meant to pinpoint the planes aloft, not the people on the tarmac below.

"You could just ask her out," Matt continued as he set his cup down on the table, preparing to take over the next shift for his colleague.

"Yeah, I know," admitted Logan. Even though it should've been a simple action, asking a girl out, he felt challenged. He lived true to his forename, letting people roll over him, like a log. He seemed to be at the mercy of others, which was ironic since he served as a tower controller, paid to give orders and enforce regulations in the airspace surrounding the airport.

Nicole Evans. That was her name. He found out that much. She was the newest flight instructor on the staff. The binoculars rose to his eyes every time he saw her feet hit the tarmac. Sometimes he felt like a stalker even though he was the furthest thing from it. Logan thought if he could see her smile once more, a fond memory of their first meeting in the airport parking lot, maybe he could summon the courage to take the next step and ask her out. Their paths crossed many times since, casual conversations shared between them, but nothing beyond trivial nuances of the weather conditions for the day.

Caught in a momentary lapse of concentration, a dangerous passivity for an air traffic controller, Matt's urgent voice registered. "You have an incoming."

"Tower, November Two Niner Five Oscar Lima, on base for runway five, over?" The panicked plea came through the headset with more emphasis as his first request resulted in silence. Logan scurried to the microphone switch, depressed it, and replied, "Niner Five Oscar Lima, cleared final runway five, winds zero four zero at five knots."

He redirected his binoculars skyward, watching the Cessna Skyhawk bank left toward its final approach, scanning the adjacent area to be sure no obstacles interfered with the plane's maneuver before landing.

Matt continued to offer words not requested, "Dude, you turn twenty-eight tomorrow. Why don't you loosen up, take a chance for once in your life? I've known you now, for what, five years? You've never been on a date, let alone entertain the idea of a steady girlfriend. Nicole has this power over you in ways I haven't seen before."

The way her name traveled across the space between them and alighted on his being made Logan smile. "Dude, you're caught, hook, line, and sinker. Just ask her out. If you don't do it, I'll do it for you. Consider it my birthday present to you."

He considered letting his colleague do the asking for him, but something struck a chord in him at that moment, a commitment to his course of action solidified. It was that voice again. Not Matt's, but the one echoing in his left ear. "November Three One Seven Hotel Golf, at runway five, ready for takeoff, departure to the southeast."

How could words spoken through a cheap headset with a deafening propeller sound spinning in the background be so intoxicating? "One Seven Hotel Golf, cleared for takeoff runway five, departure to the southeast approved, good day." Logan appreciated the rules and required response, but he also knew Nicole more than she might realize, even if they spent no significant time together.

"One Seven Hotel Golf, cleared for takeoff, departure to the southeast approved, keep smiling." All pilots confirmed receipt of the commands given while customarily replying with good day, an informal thank-you for services provided. Nicole took it a step further. Her keep smiling reply was unique, just like her effect on Logan.

"So, are you gonna do it?" Matt's question vibrated through his consciousness.

"I will." There was conviction in his response. He meant it this time, even if his prior choices weren't the most direct route toward his goal.

It was a positive omen, her car parked right next to his. Logan fumbled through his wallet, looking for any scrap of paper. Scribbling his message and number on the back of the grocery receipt, he tucked it under her wiper and departed, feeling victorious, yet anxious.

#

The drone of the plane's engine lulled Nicole into complacency as her student navigated over the open waters to practice the required disorientation maneuvers. The final words she heard, good day, seemed to carry a tiny inflection she wished, or hoped, was something more. That was it, she thought. If he didn't make a move by tomorrow, she'd muster the courage to do it herself. She knew it was his birthday, and she had the perfect way to ask him out. She smiled with anticipation.

#

"I'm so sorry," Matt offered as his friend stumbled into the tower on the following morning. Logan parked next to Nicole's car, still in the same spot, his note still safely tucked beneath the wiper blade. An overnight shower caused the ink to bleed through the thin piece of paper like tears of sadness and regret.

No one could have predicted the wind shear that arrived at the untimeliest moment, midway through a forty-five-degree bank. There was no way for the plane to recover with the limited altitude at the pilot's disposal.

Months later, he still heard her final words reverberate through his headset on that November evening, keep smiling. Logan forced himself to do just that, however difficult it was, in memory of the relationship with a different November Echo that never came to be, a reminder to live life and take chances while you have the opportunity.